


Everything Right

by TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel/Top Sam Winchester, Cas is waaaay more confident than he probably really would be in this situation lol, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-15 23:35:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21261461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite/pseuds/TheLittleRedWhoCouldWrite
Summary: Sam and Cas are on a hunt and oh, noThere's only one bedBetaed by Manawhaat. Art by danielledastis





	Everything Right

“Still sounds like a shifter to me,” Cas says as Sam pulls off the interstate, headed toward a “Vacancies” sign. He can barely see it peeking over the fast-food restaurants and gas stations that populate the exit into this tiny town he’s already forgotten the name of.

Sam shakes his head, looking over at Cas and then quickly returning his gaze to the road so he can’t get distracted by how blue Cas’s eyes are in the late morning sunlight coming through the windshield. He really needs to stop staring at the former angel, especially since he’s pretty sure Dean and Cas are together. To be honest, he’s surprised he’s the one with Cas on this hunt. “My money is on a witch.”

“But we haven’t found hex bags at any of the scenes.”

Before Sam can reply or turn into the parking lot, he’s forced to move over as a police car flies by with lights and sirens blazing, an ambulance hot on its trail. Sam exchanges a look with Cas.

“Should we follow them?” he asks.

Cas shrugs, pulling out their police scanner and, after a second of fiddling, turning it on. He quickly finds the right settings and the staticky voice of the operator comes through.

“- another crazy one on Country Crossing,” the operator is saying. “We need all available units on the scene. Detective Morey is in charge.”

Sam nods. “Definitely our thing.”

He pulls away from the curb and heads in the direction the police car went.

* * *

After a pit stop at a gas station bathroom so Sam can change into his suit, they pull up to an obvious crime scene.

“FBI?” Cas asks, already digging the box of IDs out of the glove box.

“Probably our best option.”

Sam takes the badge Cas hands over and tucks it into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. After a quick once over in the mirror and a hand through his hair, he gets out of the car.

“FBI,” he announces to the first officer they encounter, flipping open his badge and watching Cas do that same beside him – it’s right side up this time. “Who’s in charge here?”

“I am,” another man says, breaking away from a small huddle of officers. He’s about Sam’s age, shorter than him but taller than Cas, with neatly combed blond hair and a broad build. He eyes them both with a wary eye as he approaches. “Detective Morey, head of the unit in charge of these cases. And you are?”

Sam puts his badge away and shakes Morey’s offered hand. “I’m Agent Wesson, this is Agent Sloan.”

“I wasn’t aware the FBI would be coming in on this.”

“Neither were we. It's a bit of an unofficial thing for now. Better to ask forgiveness than permission and all that. We heard you guys had been experiencing some crimes similar to ones we’ve seen in other states and wanted to see it for ourselves.” Sam’s not completely lying. They have been chasing this monster for two weeks and so far it’s killed in three different states – Maryland, Pennsylvania, and Ohio. Dean and Charlie are in Indiana following up on a possible lead while Sam and Cas are doing the same thing in Kentucky.

“Shit,” Morey sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. “This bastard has crossed state lines? That’s a whole new mess to handle.”

“We’ll worry about that later,” Sam assures him. “For now, we’d like to lend our expertise in catching this son of a bitch, if that’s alright with you.”

The detective now looks relieved to have them here. “We’ll take all the help we can get.”

* * *

It ends up being a full day of work, reviewing case files and autopsies, and then comparing them to the files taken from the previous deaths. By the end of the day, Sam’s more than certain it’s the thing they’ve been chasing. Cas is coming around to Sam’s conclusion of a witch, even though they’ve yet to find hex bags at any of the scenes. When he calls Dean on their way to the motel, though, he finds that Dean and Charlie are facing the exact same situation.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Charlie is saying over speakerphone. “How can this thing be in two different states at once?”

“Maybe it’s not,” Cas suggests. “Maybe there were two of them to begin with and once they got the sense they were being hunted, they decided to split up to try and throw us off.”

Sam can’t help a warm swell of pride. Cas has come a long way since he lost his grace and he’s shaping up to be an excellent hunter, though his people skills still need a little work. “That actually makes a lot of sense. What do you think, Dean?”

“Sounds right to me. We won’t be sure until we catch them, though. We’re gonna head out for food. Talk to ya later.”

They end the call as Sam turns into the motel parking lot. The “Vacancies” sign is still lit up so he parks and heads to the front office while Cas waits in the car.

“Hi,” he says to the receptionist, a sweet looking lady who’s probably old enough to be his grandma. “Can I get a room with two queens?”

“Sorry, hun.” She doesn’t even look up from her computer. “All out of queens. We’ve only got kings left.”

Sam wants to bang his head against the counter. Of course the only motel in town is out of queens. “We’ll take one of those, then,” he replies, doing his best to sound polite.

* * *

“I’ll take the floor,” Sam says before he’s even got the door of their room unlocked.

Cas frowns, partly at Sam’s statement and partly at the ugly peacock theme of the room. “You don’t have to take the floor.”

“What else we gonna do? It’s not like either of us will fit on that couch.” Sam eyes the couch in question – all five feet of it. “You take the bed, I’ll take the floor. It’ll work out fine.”

“Sam.” Cas rolls his eyes. “Stop being a martyr. We can both fit on that bed just fine.”

_ But we can’t _ , Sam wants to scream. _ You’re with Dean. We can’t. _

He doesn’t say that though. Just “I guess so” as he tosses his duffel onto the far corner of the bed and hopes Cas isn’t a cuddler.

* * *

They’re both cuddlers, Sam decides the next morning when he wakes up with his body curled around Castiel’s back and an arm thrown over his waist. Cas is still asleep, thankfully, and Sam can’t resist a moment to just enjoy being this close to him. Cas is solid against him, pure muscle all the way through, and Sam remembers the one time he saw Cas and Dean working out – the way the simple grey t-shirt clung to Cas’s shoulders and chest as he easily overpowered Dean, pinning him to the blue mat. Then Sam remembers the way Dean had laughed, the way he’d gazed up at Cas, and he has to force the thought away.

Before he can do anything else, Cas mumbles something in his sleep and shifts back against Sam’s body. As he does so, his ass rubs against Sam’s suddenly very prominent morning wood. Sam freezes, breath caught in his throat. Once Cas settles again, Sam very carefully begins extricating himself from the situation. Somehow he manages to get up without waking Cas. Once he’s free, he grabs his clothes and locks himself in the bathroom.

He is _so _fucked.

* * *

The day is spent going over files again. Sam and Cas find themselves in the conference room set aside for the unit on the case, crime scene photos spread across one end of the table as they search for something – anything – that will lead them to a perpetrator. This is the part of a hunt Sam feels is the most like real police work – the hours spent pouring over evidence, desperate for the tiniest of clues. Morey is a more than competent detective, in Sam’s opinion, and would probably make a great hunter. Hopefully they don’t have to tell him the truth about what they might be hunting, though. A man like Morey would never be able to return to normal life if he knew what was really out there.

Sam normally wouldn’t be so focused on the local law enforcement but it’s that or be sucked into thoughts about the graceless angel working alongside him. Cas isn’t making it easy, though. He’s abandoned his trench coat and suit jacket across the back of a chair, and now he’s rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down shirt. He rolls his shoulders, stretching a little, and Sam has to tear his eyes away from the sight of that shirt being pulled tight over his muscles.

_ ‘Stop staring at your brother’s boyfriend,’ _ Sam mentally scolds himself. ‘ _ All you’re doing is torturing yourself and being a creep _.’

Still, he glances over again just to catch a glimpse of those powerful forearms. Cas is fucking gorgeous and it’s just not fair. Sam’s not sure how he’s going to survive the next few days.

* * *

Sam hops right into the shower when they return to the motel room. He considers taking a cold shower for half a second before deciding against it. The motel has decent water pressure and the warmth feels good on his skin. He’s tired, though, so he doesn’t linger too long before he begins washing his hair.

He fumbles with the bar of soap for a bit – why are motel soaps always so tiny? – before he manages to start cleaning his body. As his hands slide across his skin, he finds his mind wandering to things his cock definitely finds interesting. Sam tries to steer his thoughts in a certain direction. A faceless, nameless brunette, small enough for him to easily pick up and press against a wall. All soft skin and thighs that part easily for his hands, heels that dig into his ass to pull him closer. Blue eyes.

Sam’s grip on his cock stutters as the woman suddenly morphs into a very familiar angel. Tanned muscles and pouty chapped lips and dark, almost black hair that feels like silk when he messes it up with his fingers. Powerful thighs wrapped around his waist, pressing their cock’s together.

He cums with a gasp, shuddering through a better orgasm than he’s had in months, and he has to catch his breath before he can focus on rinsing his mess off the shower wall. He takes a little longer than is necessary to finish his shower, trying to gather the courage to face Castiel without his face bursting into flames.

As soon as he steps out of the shower, he starts mentally kicking himself because he forgot to grab his pajamas. Figuring Cas is probably finished changing, Sam wraps an almost-too-small towel (why are motel towels always so small?) around his waist and opens the bathroom door only to be stopped in his tracks by the sight before him.

Castiel is standing by the little counter with the little cheap coffee maker, pouring steaming water into a mug for tea. But that’s not what encourages Sam’s cock to give a valiant twitch. No, that’s the sight of Cas’s tight ass and tanned, muscular legs, completely bare beneath his white button-down except for long black socks pulled up to mid-calf and… sock garters?

Cas, who is now bobbing his teabag a little in the mug, hasn’t noticed him so Sam forces himself to tear his eyes away from those impossibly beautiful legs and the fucking _ sock garters _. He grabs the pajamas he set out on top of his duffel before the shower and ducks back into the bathroom.

When he finally gathers the courage to open the door again, he lets out a mental sigh of relief when he sees that Cas is wearing pants. Soft blue sleeping pants that cling to his ass in all the best ways and no shirt, but at least he’s not half-naked anymore. Instead, Sam finds himself struggling to keep his eyes off Cas’s torso. He’s all muscle and Sam is cursing that trench coat, the one that makes Cas look tiny and kinda scrawny with the way it hangs off of him. Cas needs to wear fewer layers, Sam decides, before shaking that thought from his head because 1) he wears lots of layers so who is he to talk and 2) that would just make Cas even more of a distraction.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Cas says as Sam enters the room, gesturing to his shirtless state. “I was a little too warm last night.”

_ ‘Too warm because I was cuddling you _,’ Sam’s brain helpfully supplies, but thankfully his mouth says, “I don’t mind.”

* * *

Despite Sam’s best efforts, he still wakes up with Castiel pressed tight against his body. This time, Sam is on his back with Cas against his side, head on Sam’s chest, one arm over his waist, and one thick thigh hooked around Sam’s leg.

Sam forces himself to stay calm, doing his best to ignore the _ very _ obvious bulge Cas is sleepily grinding against Sam’s hip and his own growing morning wood. Sam takes deep breaths and carefully extracts himself from Cas’s embrace, freezing when his friend stirs. Cas settles quickly, though, and Sam is able to escape the bed without waking him.

He locks himself in the bathroom for the second morning in a row, pointedly thinking un-sexy thoughts until his erection eventually gives up hope.

Sam’s not sure he can take too much more of this.

* * *

Both cases are wrapped up late that night when the witch Sam, Cas, and Morey run into at a scene explodes into dust before their eyes. Cas ducks out to call Dean while Sam calms Morey down and, reluctantly, explains the whole “monsters are real” thing to him. He takes it surprisingly well and assures Sam that he’ll leave monsters hunting to the experts. Sam’s not sure he believes him but he wants to.

“What did Dean have to say?” Sam asks once they’re in their car on the way back to the motel, having decided to spend one more night and drive home in the morning. Sam’s hoping his dick can handle the stress.

“Apparently she was using some kind of spell to duplicate herself and throw us off.” Cas is already sliding his tie off and undoing his top few buttons. Sam bites his lip at the little glimpse of collarbone he catches. “When Charlie shot her with a witch killing bullet there, the duplicate here was destroyed.”

“Convenient. I wonder if there’s something in the library about that spell.”

“Charlie insisted on gathering up whatever spell ingredients they found for that exact purpose.”

Sam nods, turning into their motel parking lot. He’s tired but definitely needs a shower after that day. They didn’t fight the witch for long but Sam was standing right by her when she exploded and he’s pretty sure he’s got duplicate dust in his hair. Just that thought alone is grossing him out.

“Gonna jump in the shower,” he says as soon as they get into their room.

His shower goes exactly the same as it did the night before, minus the orgasm because he’s too busy getting witch remains out of his hair. He forgets his pajamas again, though.

Mentally crossing his fingers that Cas is dressed, Sam wraps the tiny towel around his waist against and opens the door.

_ Goddammit. _

The room is dim, lit only by the lamp on one of the bedside table, but Sam can still see clearly that Cas is standing by the foot of the bed, neatly folding his boxers – because of course he folds his dirty laundry – in exactly the same state of undress as the night before, right down to the black sock garters that have no right to make his calves look that good. Before Sam can say anything or hide in the bathroom again, Cas bends a little to drop his boxers into his duffel. The movement gives Sam a perfect view of that tight ass and he makes a strangled noise before he can stop himself.

When Cas turns to look at him, the last thing Sam is expecting to see is a knowing smirk. Sam finds himself frozen in the doorway, one hand clutching at his towel as he struggles to keep his eyes from drifting down to where Cas’s junk is on full display. Before he can regain brain function, Cas makes his way across the motel room to stand less than a foot from Sam.

“Cas,” Sam finally manages. “What are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Cas tilts his head, brow furrowing. “Dean did say you would be slow on the uptake.”

Sam’s cheeks feel like they’re on fire and he fights to keep his eyes on his friend’s face instead of his… ya know. “Cas, why aren’t you wearing pants?”

Instead of speaking, Cas stretches up and presses his lips to Sam’s. Sam jerks, startled, and his hands come up instinctively to rest on Cas’s hips.

“Cas,” he gasps, breaking the kiss. “What about- you and Dean-?”

Cas’s brow furrows. “What about me and Dean?”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to be confused. “You’re… together…?”

There’s a moment of silence before Castiel laughs, a happy sound that both puzzles Sam and warms him to the core. He stares down at Cas.

“Dean and I?” Cas chuckles. “Never. No, Sam. It’s you that I’ve had my eyes on for all these years. Dean told me it was time we, in his words, ‘got our heads out of our asses’.”

“Oh,” Sam manages, more than a little stunned. Cas and Dean aren’t together? “Is that why…?”

“Dean suggested something drastic.”

It takes a moment for those words to sink in and then Sam can’t help laughing. “I guess standing around half-naked is pretty drastic.”

Cas seems pleased with himself. This time, it’s Sam’s turn to initiate the kiss and he takes his time once he has, savoring the feeling of Cas’s lips against his own. Strong hands slide around Sam’s waist, drawing him in close until Sam can feel Cas’s rapidly hardening cock against his thigh. Sam’s sure the towel isn’t doing much to hide his own erection.

“Cas,” he breathes, pulling back a little. “You’re sure about this?”

Cas’s hands press flat against Sam’s back, warm skin against skin. “Take me to bed, Sam.”

He’s more than happy to comply, steering them both toward the bed until Cas’s legs collide with the edge and he sits down. Sam takes the opportunity to begin working on Cas’s buttons, eager to get at the smooth, tan muscle he hides under so many layers every day. Cas tugs on Sam’s towel in return and the small piece of fabric flutters to the ground. Sam’s cock bobs free and Cas’s eyes lock on it as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders. He tosses it aside and sits forward, fingers curling around Sam’s hips and drawing him closer. Sam’s cock bumps against his cheek as Cas leans in to nuzzle right into the base.

Sam’s breath catches in his throat and one hand flies up to cradle the back of Cas’s head, fingers sliding through silky black locks. Cas chuckles, taking a deep breath and then turning his head to mouth along the side of Sam’s shaft. He works his way up to the tip, where he presses an almost tender kiss to Sam’s slit before sucking him down. Sam groans and his body flexes, fighting the sudden build of his orgasm.

“Fuck, fuck,” he says, yanking Cas’s head back. “Holy shit.”

Cas frowns, concerned. “Everything all right? Did I do something wrong?”

Sam shakes his head, guiding Cas to lay flat in the center of the mattress and then stretching out beside him. “Not at all,” he assures him. “You were doing everything right. I just don’t want this to end so soon.”

There’s a moment while Cas mulls over those words, processing Sam’s meaning, and then he smiles that sweet, slightly gummy smile that makes Sam’s stomach do happy flips. “Oh,” he murmurs, rolling onto his side to he can bump his nose against Sam’s. “I see.”

One socked foot slides along Sam’s calf and he glances down to see the sharp line of Cas’s sock garters just under his knees. Something about that sight makes Sam’s cock twitch.

“Fuck, Cas,” he murmurs, pulling Cas around to lie on his stomach. Sam sits up on his knees and shuffles down to kneel by his feet, eyes roaming all that tan, muscular skin. “God, your legs.”

He rests his hands on the backs of Cas’s calves, feeling the way the muscles flex through the soft fabric of his socks. Cas glances back over his shoulder at him, clearly curious but willing to see where Sam decides to take this. Sam leans down and presses a soft kiss to the silky-smooth skin that makes up the back of Cas’s right knee, just above the black fabric of the sock garter. The kiss prompts a jerk and a small huff of laughter. Sam smiles to himself and repeats the kiss with the other knee. Then he moves a few inches upward, kissing the back of one powerful thigh, and he can’t help but fall in love with the way Cas’s breath catches.

Sam continues his path upward, jumping back and forth between Cas’s legs until he reaches that fucking _ perfect _ ass. When he gets there, he can’t resist the urge to dig his teeth into one cheek.

“_ Sam, _” Cas groans, back arching as he grinds his cock against the comforter.

“Can I fuck you?” Sam asks, kissing his way to the small of Cas’s back and then beginning the journey up his spine.

“If you want to, you better get a move on,” Cas replies,

Sam runs his hands along Cas’s sides, tickling his ribs a little and chuckling when Cas squirms. “But I want to savor you.”

Cas turns to smile softly at him. “Sam,” he says, twisting to one side and pulling Sam up into a kiss. “There will be plenty of time to savor me next time. Right now, I want this cock–” one hand curls around Sam’s dick, stroking slowly as Cas continues speaking– “in my ass. And I want it now.”

Sam growls and rolls Cas onto his back, easily fitting himself between the other man’s thighs and blanketing Cas with his body when he leans down to kiss him. Their cocks slide together, drawing moans from both of them.

“Have you done this before?” Sam asks, even though he’s pretty sure the answer is no.

As expected, Cas shakes his head. What Sam doesn’t expect, though, is for him to say, “Just my fingers. I’ve been enjoying familiarizing myself with this body now that I’m human. Dean gave me some videos that were highly educational and I’ve done some experimenting on my own.”

That image - Cas in his room in the bunker, slick fingers in his own hole - sends a jolt of arousal down Sam’s spine. His cock twitches alongside Cas’s.

“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth, pressing their lips together again. “Cas’s that… fuck. Lube. We need lube.”

“In the drawer,” Cas answers with a chuckle, words muffled against Sam’s jaw.

“Someone’s prepared,” Sam observes as he fumbles to fetch the bottle without getting off of Cas.

Castiel shrugs, nibbling at Sam’s throat. He seems hellbent on leaving a hickey and Sam can’t bring himself to care, even though he knows Dean’s going to tease him about it. He likes the idea of being marked by Cas.

Lube in hand, Sam props himself up on one elbow and opens the bottle of lube, drizzling a generous amount on his fingers. Cas lifts his hips and spreads his legs wider, a clear invitation if Sam ever saw one. He wastes no time getting his hand between their bodies, behind Cas’s balls to where the silky skin of his perineum turns into the tight furl of his hole. Cas whines and presses down onto Sam’s questing finger, eagerly welcoming the intrusion.

“Cas,” Sam says softly, nose buried in the softness of Cas’s throat as his finger slides deeper into that velvet heat. “Fuck. You feel so good.”

He keeps up a steady stream of praise and dirty talk as he works Cas open on his fingers. Cas makes low, needy sounds that go straight to Sam’s dick. If he wasn’t on the edge before, he definitely is, now. His cock is hard enough to cut diamonds and he’s not sure he’s going to last very long once he gets inside Cas.

Squirming, Cas insists,“I’m ready,” digging his hands into Sam’s hair while he shoves his hips up into Sam’s hand.

“You’re sure?” Sam questions, twisting his fingers and smirking at the way Cas’s body jerks.

“_ Yes _,” Cas hisses.

“Condom?”

Cas shakes his head. “I’m clean and I know you are. I want to feel you.”

Sam’s more than happy to comply, sliding his fingers free and popping the lube open to add more to his cock. He sits up a little so he can line things up, looking down to see the place where Castiel’s body opens up easily to his cock.

“Fuck, Cas,” he murmurs. “You’re so tight.”

Cas just moans, hooking his arms around Sam’s neck and his legs around Sam’s waist. His heels, still clad in his socks, dig into Sam’s thighs and pull him forward faster than Sam had intended. Both of them groan at the feeling of Sam balls-deep inside of Cas.

“_ Sam _,” Cas breaths against his mouth. “Fuck me.”

Sam is more than happy to obey, rolling his hips the best he can within the tight hold of Castiel’s legs. It takes him a moment or two but he soon works out a rhythm they both enjoy.

“Cas,” he gets out, pressing his forehead to his friend’s. “Cas, I’m not… gonna last.”

“It’s okay,” Cas assures him, rocking his hips up to meet Sam’s. “It’s okay. Just… touch me?”

That Sam can do. He works his hand between their bodies to wrap his fingers around Cas’s cock. Cas gasps, tilting his hips up to give Sam better access. The movement changes the angle and Sam’s cock slides right over Cas’s prostate, prompting him to cry out and clench down a little. From there, it’s only a few more thrusts of his hips before Sam is falling over the edge. He realizes too late that he never asked Cas if he could cum inside him, but the soft, happy moan Cas lets out eases his worries. It takes just one, two more strokes of his cock to bring Cas to his own orgasm. Sam keeps his eyes locked on Cas’s face, soaking in every expression and sound.

When they’re both ready, Sam carefully pulls out. The sight of a little bit of his cum dribbling from Cas’s open hole makes Sam’s cock twitch. He sighs, stretching out beside Cas on top of the blankets and catching his lips in a soft kiss.

Cas murmurs, “That was amazing.”

Sam blushes, ducking his head down against Cas’s shoulder. “Yeah, it was.”

One hand curls around Sam’s bicep, gently drawing him closer. “We should do it again.”

“Right now?” Sam says in a teasing tone, allowing himself to be pulled in until they’re pressed together from his shoulder against Cas’s chest down to where their legs are unconsciously tangling together. Cas’s socks are soft against Sam’s ankles.

Cas laughs, nuzzles against Sam’s cheek. “No. Sleep now.”

“Bathroom and clean up first. Then sleep.”

Cas grumbles but lets go of Sam so he can retrieve his abandoned towel. Sam quickly cleans them both up, uses the bathroom, and then nudges Cas to go do the same. While Cas uses the bathroom Sam has the chance to turn the covers down. He pauses when Cas emerges from the bathroom.

“You’re still wearing your socks,” he observes, chuckling softly as he drops the covers at the end of the bed. “And your sock garters. Are those really necessary?”

Cas glances down at the items in question and shrugs. “Jimmy was wearing them when I first possessed his vessel and I suppose I just never thought to not use them. I was unaware they weren’t the standard.”

“I don’t know if they’re the standard or not in whatever circles Jimmy ran in,” Sam says, a little weirded out by the mention of Cas’s former vessel even though he knows it’s been just Cas’s body for years. “I’d just never seen someone use them until yesterday.”

“Ah.” Cas blushes. “I see. Just let me… take them off.”

“Let me,” Sam blurts out when Cas moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

Cas stares up at him. “Are you sure?”

Sam nods and kneels at Cas’s feet, eagerly reaching out to get his hands on those legs again. It takes him a moment to understand how the garters work - there’s a clasp on the inside holding the elastic band together, and then the clip holding the sock up. Sam carefully undoes the clasp, fanning his fingers out around Cas’s calf as he removes the clip from the sock. He reaches out to set the garter on top of Cas’s duffel and then begins slowly rolling the sock down and off. He glances up to find Cas watching him with a tender expression that warms him to the core. Once the sock is neatly folded and set beside the garter, Sam begins repeating the process with the other garter and sock, allowing his hands to linger on Cas’s skin. Only once the second sock is folded and set aside does he look up at Cas again.

“Sam,” Cas whispers, reaching for him.

Sam allows Cas to pull him up onto the bed. They lay down together again, this time with Sam’s head pillowed on Cas’s shoulder. He snuggles in close as Cas reaches over to flick off the lamp on the bedside table and pulls the blankets up over them both.

“I love you,” Cas says quietly.

Sam’s breath catches as a sudden swell of happiness wells up in his chest. “Cas,” he manages, lifting his head to search out Cas’s eyes - he can barely see them in the light of streetlamps coming through the thin motel curtains. “You do?”

“I never understood the love that humans experienced, until I met you,” Cas admits and presses a kiss to Sam’s forehead, a tender touch Sam’s never gotten from anyone since Jess. He squeezes his eyes shut, just soaking in the sensations of being so close to someone again.

“I love you, too,” he says - it’s like a million pounds off his chest, finally being able to say those words. Sam’s laughter shakes his voice a little when he adds, "Even though you wear those ridiculous sock garters."


End file.
